O windy spirits, that are born in Heaven,

Go down and bid the powers of Earth and Air

Protect his ways until the Time shall come.

* * * * *

O Mother, if the dark of things to be

Wrap round thy heart with cloudy apprehensions,

Eat of thy present corn, the aftermath

Hath its appointed end in whirling light.

Eat of thy present corn, thou so hast share

In mightier portents than Augustus hath.

* * * * *

In every moment all to be is born,

Thou art the moment and need'st fear no scorn.

Silence is born of many peaceful things,

Thus is the starlight woven into strings

Whereon the Powers of peace make sweet accord.

Rejoice, O Earth, thy Lord

Hath chosen Him his holy resting-place.

Lo, how the winged sign

Flutters above that hallowed chrysalis.

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